


Child of the Sea

by Nightfoot



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Angst, Fantasy AU, Historical AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfoot/pseuds/Nightfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a year, Flynn gets to spend the day with a very curious friend, who may not be entirely human.  Their bond grows ever stronger as they grow up, even as clouds darken the future and threaten their chance at a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Based on/inspired by [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGT5lBve_v4) Written for Fluri Month 2016, prompt: "protection; wishes will come true."

Every summer, Flynn’s mother sent him to the seaside to spend the holiday with his grandparents. This had been a great frustration to him as a child, because all his friends were still in the city. He wanted to spend his summers wreaking havoc on the scummy streets back home: racing toy boats down the gutter, swinging on lampposts, or having daring sword fights with sticks. Instead, he was given a package of sandwiches and an admonishment to behave himself, and then shuttled away on a train to a drab cottage where he had no friends and nothing to do.

His grandparents met him at the train station every year from the time he was six, and every year his grandmother pinched his cheeks, which he hated. His grandfather drove them him in his car, which Flynn found very exciting. Nobody in Flynn’s neighbourhood had a car - many of his friends had never even seen one in person - so at least he had something to brag about come the start of a new school year. It almost made up for the way his grandmother force-fed him slabs of cakes more akin to bricks than pastry.

The summer he turned eight was the first time he met Yuri. It was his first week with his grandparents, and Flynn had already gone through every book he’d brought. Bored, Flynn rustled through his bag and pulled out the thin, narrow wooden case that contained a flute. His mother said it would be good for him to learn an instrument. Flynn wasn’t convinced, but she’d insisted he take it with him and practice this summer.

He sat on his bed with the music book propped up on a pillow and began carefully making his way up and down the scales. It would be more fun if he had a cooler instrument, he thought. Flynn had wanted to play something like a trumpet or a saxophone, but his mum said it would be rude to their neighbours, considering the thin walls in their flat.

On his twelfth run-through of Hot Cross Buns, his grandfather appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing in here?”

Flynn lowered the flute. “Practicing.”

“It’s a beautiful day out. You should be outside, enjoying the weather. It’s the longest day of the year! Go play with your friends.”

“I don’t have any friends here.”

“Then get outside and make some. You shouldn’t spend your summer indoors. It’s unnatural.”

“Yes, sir.” Flynn suspected part of his grandfather’s motivation for kicking him out was a lack of patience for hearing him stumble through Hot Cross Buns one more time. Flynn didn’t have much hope for making friends, though. His grandparents lived by the sea in a small village that was slowly dwindling in population. Not many people moved here, so there were not very many children. The ones that already lived here were so close-knit that none of his attempts to play with them in previous summers had gone over well.

Flynn packed up his flute, stuck his book under his arm, and slapped his cap on his head. He may not be able to meet new friends, but he could at least give his grandparents a break from his music. An old stone staircase led down the grassy hill to the beach, and when Flynn reached the base of it, he crossed the cool sand to a pile of boulders pressed against the hill. Perched on one, the cold grey sea stretched infinitely before him. On the other side of the beach, a family of seals lazed in the sand.

Sitting down by the sea had always been the one really nice thing about spending summers here. The smell of the cool, salty air and the rhythmic in and out of the waves put him at peace. It was strange, because he had been born and raised in a crowded city, but sitting by the ocean always felt like home.

With his book balanced on his knees, he put his flute to his lips and began to practice once more. He’d scarcely played for ten minutes when someone said, “Wow, you really stink.”

Flynn cut off with a squeak and lowered the flute. A boy, probably about the same age as him, was leaning forward with his arms crossed on a boulder. He wasn’t one of the local boys, as far as Flynn knew. His hair was dark and grown inappropriately long, and his eyes were as cold and grey as the sea.

“I’m just learning,” Flynn said, defensive.

“That’s pretty obvious.”

“Can you play any instrument?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m better than you.”

The boy grinned. “Guess you’re right. My name’s Yuri.” He stuck out his hand.

Flynn took it with a friendly smile. “Flynn. So are you new in the village?”

Yuri clambered onto the boulder to sit even with Flynn. “Sort of. I visit every year, but I don’t live in town.”

“Oh, me too. I’m staying with my grandparents.” He pointed at the cottage on top of the hill. “I haven’t seen you here before, though.”

“We’re only here for the day to visit my grandma for her birthday, so it’s not unusual you didn’t see me.”

“Oh, I see. Where are your parents?”

Yuri waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the village. “With my grandma. She’s asleep now, though, so they didn’t mind if I went exploring. Do you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“Exploring, of course! I want to check out the sweet shop in the village, too. Do you have any money? I only have a farthing I found in the sand. Is that enough, do you think?”

“Er… you’ll need at least a penny to buy any sweets. I don’t have any, either. We can go exploring, though. Let me put my flute away.” Flynn ran back up the steps and into the cottage to tuck his flute back into his bag. His grandfather yelled at him for being inside, but Flynn called a breathless, “I’m going to play, I promise!” as he rushed out the door again. Yuri was waiting for him at the base of the stairs, and then they took off to explore the village.

Flynn had never had so much fun at the seaside. The boring village was so much more entertaining when he had a friend to share it with. He and Yuri roamed the streets from top to bottom, pressing their faces against shop windows, kicking tin cans as far as they could, and starting a small war when they sat under a tree that “belonged” to the local kids. There was a small battle with sticks as swords, but considering how outnumbered they were, it ended in them running away, laughing uproariously as they climbed the old oak tree up the lane from Flynn’s home to hide in the branches.

It was Midsummer’s Day, which meant Flynn could stay out and play for many hours. When the sun began to set, he said, “I have to go in now, or my gran will be upset. Can we play again tomorrow?”

Yuri shook his head. “Nah, sorry. We’re leaving really early in the morning, so I won’t be able to see you.”

“Oh.” Flynn hung his head. “Will you be back?”

“We’ll come back next summer! We always come for my grandma’s birthday, so I’ll be back next year on the same day.”

Flynn brightened a little at that. At least he would see Yuri again. “Ok! I’ll see you next year then!”

Yuri smiled and waved as he ran off to find his own family.

Flynn woke up early and hoped to maybe catch a glimpse of Yuri before he left, but was disappointed. His grandmother saw how glum he was over breakfast and tried to cheer up him with extra servings of sausage, but since she overcooked them until they were more like links of jerky, it didn’t help. Flynn went back to his room to re-read one of the books he’d brought. He almost wished he hadn’t met Yuri at all, because having experienced how fun the village could be with a friend, he just felt more bored than ever now that he was once again alone.

That afternoon, he picked up his flute and practice book and trudged down the steps to the beach. There was nothing else to do, so he may as well practice his scales over the summer so his mum didn’t demand extra lessons in the fall to make up for it. He made himself comfortable on a boulder, just far enough from the tide to avoid getting sprayed, and began to play.

On his third attempt at Hot Cross Buns, something rose out of the water near him which nearly startled him off the boulder. He calmed down when he saw it was just a seal. He’d always thought seals looked funny on land, all blubber and flippers and flop, but when he watched them dart through the waves, he felt envious at how effortless they made it look.

The small seal flopped itself down on the sand nearby. It watched him with clear grey eyes and Flynn lowered the flute to smile at the curious animal. It had light grey fur splotches with black and its whiskers twitched as it looked back at him.

“Hello,” Flynn said, uncertainly. He liked seals, but had never been this close to one. The seal let out a small bark and then rested its head on the sand. Apparently it was content to laze beside him, so Flynn paid it no mind as he picked up his flute and resumed his practice.

The seal remained at his side for the rest of the day. Occasionally it returned to the ocean, sometimes doing flips out of the water right in front of him that Flynn almost took for showing off, but it always returned to its spot by the rocks. If it thought his stumbling attempts at music were abhorrent, it didn’t seem to mind.

That evening, he told his grandparents about his new friend over supper. “...and it didn’t leave until I said goodbye and started up the steps. I think it likes me!”

“That seal has good taste, then.” Gran ruffled his hair as she set a plate of meatloaf in front of him. “I’m not surprised, though. The seals down in the bay are very special animals.”

“You’ve said.” Flynn halfheartedly poked his meatloaf, worried about what ingredients he might discover within. “You said they were selkies.”

His grandfather harrumphed behind a newspaper. “Don’t go filling the boy’s head with daft stories, dear.”

“Oh, hush.” She took her seat across from him. “I was telling the truth. Some of them _are_ selkies.”

“Really?” Flynn gazed at her in wonder.

“Of course not,” his grandfather said. He lowered the paper to look Flynn in the eye. “I’ve lived by the sea for all my years, and I never saw any magical seal stripping off its skin to dance around the beach as a human. It’s just a story for the kiddies, Flynn.”

Gran sniffed and cut into her meatloaf, not seeming to notice how difficult it was to slice through. “Just because _you_ haven’t seen anything.”

Flynn smiled at her but gave his grandfather a knowing look. He had believed Gran’s stories when he was four but at the wise old age of eight, he was much too mature to believe them now.

* * *

 

For the rest of the summer, Flynn had a companion whenever he practiced down at the beach. He was certain it was the same seal that lay near him everyday; it had such intelligent eyes. After a few weeks, Flynn decided that the seal needed a name. Herbert, he decided, was a good name. If the seal disliked him calling it Herbert, it never made it known.

By the end of the summer, Flynn was able to sit on the rocks for hours, playing Mary Had a Little Lamb while Herbert snoozed beside him. He liked his seal friend, and he almost thought he’d miss him as much as his grandparents after he left. When the summer faded, it was time to return to the city and the friends he’d left behind. He bid farewell to Herbert, took a package of sandwiches from his grandmother (ham, cheese, and pickled onion; he threw them out the window) and returned to the city.

The following summer, Flynn repeated his pattern. His mum wanted him out of the house and his grandparents wanted him to visit. Just as he’d done every summer, he road from the train station on the leather bench seat of Grandpa’s puttering car and then unloaded his suitcase full of clothes and books in the little guest bedroom.

He’d practiced his flute since the previous summer, so he hoped it wouldn’t annoy his grandparents as much to hear him practice. But, he’d spent all winter and spring practicing in his family’s stuffy flat, and he’d been looking forward to returning to the beach to play again. As soon as he was done unpacking, he grabbed the flute and ran down the steps to the boulder he’d grown so familiar with the previous summer.

“Herbert? Herbert! I’m back! Are you here?” The waves gently lapped the shore. Herbert was nowhere to be seen. Flynn slumped his shoulders. He supposed it had been naive to expect the seal to still be here after a whole year. Disappointed, he climbed onto his rock and began to practice alone.

Ten minutes later, the water bubbled and a slick, grey-furred head poked above the waves. Flynn lowered the flute and laughed. “Herbert!” His old friend, drawn by the music with which Flynn had filled the beach, returned to his old spot at Flynn’s side. “I think I’m better this year. What do you think?” The seal watched him play, and then snorted and put its head down. Flynn took it as a sign he wasn’t impressed. He scowled at the seal, “Yeah, well I’d like to see you play….”

Herbert wasn’t the only returning friend. On Midsummer’s Day, he went down to the beach earlier than usual. Herbert wasn’t there yet, so he started to play alone. Only a few minutes later, he heard someone approach.

“You stink slightly less this year,” Yuri said with a grin.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“Clearly not enough.”

Flynn hopped off the boulder. “Want to explore the rocks on the other side of the beach?”

“You bet!”

* * *

 

Flynn loved his summers. While he missed his friends in the city, he came to love the long, relaxing days he could spend sitting by the sea and practicing. Every year looked much like the last, with the only changes in how tall Flynn and Yuri were and how well Flynn could play the flute.

He wished Yuri could stay longer. He’d even gotten permission from his grandparents to invite Yuri to stay with them for a week instead of going home after the visit with his grandmother. Yuri couldn’t, though. His parents didn’t want him away from home for that long, he said. He didn’t like the idea of being penpals, either - said he hated writing and it was no substitute for playing in person.

So, they made the best of what they had. Every year, from dawn to dusk on the longest day of the year, they romped through the village, built sandcastles on the beach, and explored the sparse woods on the other side of town. Flynn began to think of Yuri as his special friend. He had plenty of friends back home, who played with him throughout the school year, but the one day a year he got to hang out with Yuri became a day he looked forward to as much as Christmas.

Once his day with Yuri was over, Flynn appreciated his other friend for the rest of the summer. He sat on the boulder, sometimes for so long that tide came in and began splashing him. He’d come quite a ways from staggered scales and Hot Cross Buns and serenaded Herbert with long, flowing pieces that drifted into the breeze.

He could talk to Herbert, too. Flynn had always felt an affinity for the seals, though he couldn’t quite explain why. The seal never responded, but Flynn could just _tell_ by the look in his eyes that he understood. Flynn poured out his heart to that seal, telling him about his frustrations at school and things he was looking forward to. He told him about how he was afraid he was… different. That while his friends were discovering girls, he found himself drawn to other men, and how worried he was about what that meant for the future.

Herbert was easy to talk to about this, since Flynn didn’t suppose seals had any concept of sexuality and probably wouldn’t judge. Instead, he just listened. He always watched Flynn intently as he spoke, his grey eyes as intelligent as any human’s. When Flynn confessed that he often tried to think about romance with his female classmates but his thoughts too often drifted to his once-a-year companion Yuri, he was certain the seal even looked intrigued.

When he was sixteen, Flynn sat by the sea in early August. He’d be heading home in a couple of weeks, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. The city would be chaotic these days, he imagined.

“A war has started,” Flynn explained to Herbert during a break between songs. “I don’t suppose you even know what a war is, do you?”

Herbert looked back at him with curiosity.

“A war is… it’s fighting. Hundreds of men trying to kill each other because their country told them to. I don’t think there’s an equivalent thing for seals.” Flynn leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, staring out to sea. “It’s odd. We’ve studied wars in school, of course, but they were always so far away. War seemed like something that only happened in books. But now we’re at war with countries very close to us. Some of my friends have older brothers that are enlisting. It feels so much more real.”

He looked down at Herbert, who was listening intently, and smiled slightly. “Sometimes I wish I could be a seal like you, and spend my days lazing on the beach instead of worrying about zeppelins dropping bombs on my city. I’m sure it must seem strange to you. Seals don’t hurt other seals, right? So why are humans hurting each other?”

Flynn had been following the news ever since the inciting event, and even though he’d read the newspapers daily to watch the chain of events unfold, it still seemed hard to believe. “I’m not even sure I fully understand it myself. A month ago, you see, an archduke was killed in a country faraway by people from another faraway country. And now we’re going to war against _another_ faraway country. Strange, isn’t it?”

It just seemed so odd that last June, he and Yuri had enjoyed the day lazing under the old oak tree up the lane, eating apples and shooting the breeze. A week later, an archduke was shot, which began a series of falling dominoes that led their country to war.

Herbert cocked his head. Flynn reached out to rub the top of Herbert’s slick head. He knew, of course, that petting wild animals was dangerous. After all these years, though, it seemed ludicrous that Herbert would bite him. The seal rubbed his head against Flynn’s hand, confirming that the touch was not at all unwelcome.

“They say it will be over by Christmas. I really hope so.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t over by Christmas. The next summer, he packed his bag for his annual visit to his grandparents house for what he feared would be the last time. He made his own sandwiches for the train ride now. After all, in only a few weeks he’d be seventeen. He wasn’t a child anymore.

That didn’t stop his grandmother from pinching his cheeks when she met him at the train station, even if she had to stand on tip-toes and tug his collar to make him bend over to do it.

“I’ve got it, Gran,” he said, holding his suitcase tight. “You don’t have to carry it for me.”

“Are you sure, dear? We’re walking all the way home.”

“All the more reason for me to carry it. Is something wrong with Grandpa’s car?”

Gran waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know how it is. Petrol is so expensive these days, what with the rationing and all.”

“I understand.” It was hard to avoid reminders about rationing in the city.

When he arrived at their cottage, he began to unpack. His flute sat on his pillow, waiting to be used when he finished.

“Are you going down to play by the rocks?” Gran asked, standing in his doorway.

Flynn hastily shoved his underpants into the drawer. “My flute? Yes, I was going to.”

She beamed at him. “I do so love hearing you play. You have a gift, my love. It doesn’t feel like summer anymore unless I hear your beautiful song drifting up from the beach.”

Flynn smiled sheepishly. “Ah, well… I still have a lot of room to improve. I’m not really _that_ good….”

“Is that why you always play for the seals and not your dear grandparents?”

“Heh. Well, that’s what it was when I was younger, but now… I like playing for the seals. They’re good listeners.”

“They truly are.” She smiled fondly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the seals in these waters are very special. When you speak to them, they understand.”

Flynn nodded. He’d never spoken to anyone about how he felt about Herbert, fearing they’d think he was daft, but he was glad to hear his grandmother expressing the same sentiments. He supposed it wasn’t that unusual, considering the stories she used to tell him as a child.

“You go on, then. I’m sure your seal friend misses you, and I can hear your lovely playing from up here.”

Flynn kissed her on the forehead and then took his flute down to the waves to say hello to Herbert.

* * *

 

On Midsummer’s Day, Flynn greeted Yuri with a hug. They met on the beach, as they always did. “Alright?” Yuri asked.

Flynn nodded with a smile. “Your hair is getting unreasonably long.” He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and toying with the long strands that fell past Yuri’s shoulders. “You should get it cut.”

Yuri ran his hand through it. “I like it like this.”

“Your school lets you grow it out?”

“They don’t mind as long as I tie it up.” They began walking away from the beach and toward the village without discussing it. Flynn loved spending time at the beach, but Yuri always preferred to venture into the village.

It was a perfect day, as his days with Yuri generally were. They came so rarely that every moment they shared together brightened even the worst of days. They stocked up on licorice and ate it under the oak tree, then spent a few hours playing football with some of the other boys in the village. Flynn had been very stressed lately, because his heart felt heavy every time he read a newspaper, but hanging out with Yuri made him feel light again. For a whole day, he avoided the topic of war.

As the sun sank low, they ended up back on the beach again. They sat in the sand, working together to build a sandcastle. They worked quietly for a while, but as orange stained the sky, Flynn knew he was going to have to face reality soon. There was something he needed to say, so he might as well spit it out now. Their time was growing short.

“I’m not going to be here next year.”

Yuri stopped patting the sand wall. “You’re not?”

“Probably. If all goes well, I’ll be here the year after… but maybe not that one either. And….” Fear fluttered through his heart. “I might not ever come back.”

Yuri’s sandy hands dropped to his knees. “Why not?”

“I turn eighteen next summer. I have to enlist. Actually, I might enlist early. A lot of my friends turn eighteen before I do, so I think I’ll sign up with them. Maybe we can be in the same unit.”

Yuri’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Enlist? Unit? What are you talking about?”

Now it was Flynn’s turn to be surprised. “The war.”

“The…? Oh! That one. That’s right, that’s still going on.”

Flynn studied Yuri’s face. Yuri had always been an oddball. He didn’t keep up with the news, and his family - inasmuch as he talked about them - seemed to be outcasts who didn’t keep up with the rest of society. Still, even people living under a rock must know that their country - and so many other countries - had been at war since last summer. He’d assumed Yuri wouldn’t be here next year, either, since they were the same age and Yuri would be drafted when he turned eighteen, same as Flynn.

Yuri met his gaze over the castle. “You’ll come back after it’s over, though, right? Even though you’ll be an adult and won’t have to spend your summers here, you’ll still come for Midsummer’s Day, right?”

“I hope so. I will if I can. But if the war is over and I’m not here… then that means I didn’t make it back.” His heart ached in fear again. He didn’t want to go to war. He didn’t want to kill people, or get shot at in return, but he had no choice. It would be better to sign-up early and get some say in where he was posted, rather than waiting for the letter from the draft office telling him where he’d been assigned.

“You’re coming back.” Yuri reached out and grabbed Flynn’s wrist. “Promise.”

Flynn looked into Yuri’s intent grey eyes and saw fear almost as pronounced as his own. He recognized something else in those eyes… some _one_ else, and something clicked in his head. Something he thought he’d always known, but had never wanted to think about.

“Yuri… you’re not human, are you?”

“Huh?” Yuri laughed a little. “What are you talking about? I look human enough, don’t I?”

“You do _now_ , but what do you look like the rest of the year?”

“Like this. Duh.”

“It’s why you spend your whole days with me even though you’re allegedly visiting your grandmother. Why you’re so interested in the village rather than the beach. Why you’re so endearingly ignorant about a lot of the world.”

Yuri was still holding Flynn’s wrist, then tugged it forward and kissed the back of his hand. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

Flynn breathed in with shock. “Ah… no. Of course I won’t. Yuri, what…?”

Yuri dropped his wrist. “Sorry, was that too much? I just thought, well…” He shrugged. “I know you like me.”

“Hmph.” Flynn looked to the. “If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have said anything. No need to make your head bigger than it is.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“Where?”

“To the ocean.” Yuri spread his arm and gestured to the waves, which glimmered in the setting sun. “I don’t know if I understand this ‘war’ you explained last time, but I know there’s nothing like that in the ocean. You won’t have to go.”

For a moment, Flynn considered. He remembered watching seals fly through the waves and envying their grace, but…. He smiled a little and shook his head. “Don’t be silly. I can’t live in the ocean with you. I would drown.”

“I’ll teach you how to swim really good like I do.”

“Besides, I can’t run away. I still have my friends and family here, and I couldn’t live with myself if my friends all enlisted and I ran away. I’m… afraid to go to war, but I have to. It’s my duty.”

Yuri sulked at the castle. “You still haven’t promised to come back.”

Flynn stared out into the waves. He really did wish he he could just run away into the water with Yuri and leave all this behind. He didn’t want to think about war or the draft or the misery he was certain the future held for him. If only he could drop everything and swim away from this world, full of people that couldn’t stop trying to kill each other. It was impossible, though. There would be no way to leave behind his guilt, and living the rest of his life knowing he was a coward who ran away from the fight when all his friends remained to serve would be intolerable.

Flynn murmured, “I don’t know if I can make that promise.”

“You have to.” Yuri jabbed his finger at Flynn. “Promise me you’ll come home.”

Flynn gave Yuri a smile, but it was forced. “Alright. I promise.”

Yuri grabbed Flynn’s hand again and held it tight. With his other, he wiggled his fingers over their bond. “Woooo… there. Now you’ll definitely keep that promise. Selkie magic.”

Flynn’s smile was a little more genuine this time. “Oh, that’s magically binding, is it?”

“Sure.” He crossed his arms and sat up on his knees. “So you won’t be here next year, probably, but I’ll keep my eyes on the human news. Sometimes the papers end up on the beach or in the sea. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for the war to finish, and then the next Midsummer, you’ll be here.”

“Yes. I’ll be here. Does it have to be Midsummer’s Day?”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. It’s the only day I can come ashore. And I have to be back in the sea by midnight.”

“What happens if you aren’t?”

“Then the next time I go back, that’s it. No more shape-shifting adventures for me. But, I’ve heard it’s pretty tough to stay on land forever. There are those that have done it, but the pull of the sea is pretty strong.”

Flynn thought for a bit. He wanted to ask Yuri to stay on land, then, so they could be together more than once a year. It would be pointless, though. He wouldn’t want Yuri to give up his life in the ocean, even if Flynn wasn’t leaving indefinitely.

“Hey, can you play something for me?” Yuri asked.

“With my flute? Sure. What do you want to hear?”

“That one you played on the last day of summer last year. It was all… fluttery.”

Flynn nodded as he rose. “Partita in A minor, from Bach.”

Yuri waved his hand. “Yeah, whatever it’s called. I liked it.”

Flynn fetched his flute from his bedroom and met Yuri by the rocks. He took up his familiar place on the boulder and Yuri flopped into the sand, kicked his shoes off, and let the waves tickle his feet.

“You should have told me.” Flynn looked down at Yuri with a slight smile. “I would have believed you when I was a kid.”

Yuri shrugged. “My mum would have killed me if I’d told anyone. Besides, I liked it this way. You never would have told me you fancied me if you’d known who you were talking to.”

Flynn looked away with a blush. “That wasn’t… well….”

“I can’t believe you named me Herbert.”

“You looked like a Herbert.”

“I do not. I look like a….” Then he let out a puff of air. “Nevermind. I can’t even pronounce my name in this form. Start playing, will you?”

“So demanding.” Nevertheless, he put the flute to his lips.

Flynn wished the evening never had to end. The orange sky faded to a deep purplish red as the sun sank into the waves. When he glanced down, Yuri had his eyes closed and bobbed his head along with the dancing notes. Flynn had practiced this piece so many times he didn’t need to look at the music anymore, so his eyes were free to wander to the horizon. He watched the waves slide out and wished he could go with them, out into that boundless ocean and away from all the suffering of the world. He poured his heart into his music, and part of it joined the notes drifting away over the sea. Yuri was free to pass between both worlds, but this was the best Flynn was going to get.

He played until the moon had replaced the sun and stars speckled the sky. Flynn ended on a long, held note the soared across the waves, and then lowered it to his lap. “I need to get back. My grandparents will be worrying about me.”

Yuri opened his eyes and sat up. “I should, too. I don’t like cutting it too close with the midnight curfew.”

“Heh. You’re just like Cinderella.”

“Who’s that?”

“It’s a fairy tale… I’ll tell you some other time.” He climbed off the boulder and then stood before Yuri. “I’ll be here for the rest of the summer. You can listen to me whenever you want, no matter what form you’re in.”

“Sure. And you know… you don’t have to be embarrassed about fancying me. You’re not as cute as some of the seals I know, but I think I rather like you, too.”

Flynn wasn’t sure how he felt about being less attractive than a seal, but he could think about that later. For now, he just had to contend with the sudden, overwhelming desire to lean over and kiss Yuri. He wondered if Yuri felt it, too, considering the way he lingered.

But no. Flynn fought that urge down. A young man preparing to set off for war was not in a good position to begin a new romance. Yuri would still be around when the war ended… assuming Flynn was, too.

“Goodnight,” he said tersely, gave Yuri a quick hug, and then hurried up the steps to his grandparent’s cottage.

For the rest of the summer, Flynn played on the rocks at least once a day. Usually, Yuri flopped down on the sand in his usual spot and listened to the music. Sometimes he remained in the water, though, and sometimes he did backflips out of the waves. Flynn was certain he was showing off.

On Flynn’s last day, he sat in the sand with Yuri’s head in his lap. His fingers ran across the soft fur. “I’m catching the early train tomorrow, so this is goodbye.”

Yuri sighed, his whiskers bristling.

“Thank you for sharing your summers with me. You only have one day ashore and every year you spend it with me. That means a lot to me.” Flynn bent over and left a soft kiss on Yuri’s head. “I promise I’ll live. I promise I’ll see you again. Wait for me.”


	2. Part II

Gran met Flynn at the train station alone.  Had she always looked so small and frail?  Flynn hadn’t seen her in three years, so he supposed his memory could be faulty, but he thought there was more to it.   Perhaps it was the black dress, which seemed to engulf her, or the way the light had left her eyes and made her seem so much emptier than he remembered.  

Of course, he thought as he leaned on his cane to step off the big step of the train and onto the platform, he probably looked less energetic too.  Every summer throughout his childhood, he’d carried a heavy suitcase off this platform.  This time he had only an old knapsack, but then he wasn’t planning to stay for the whole summer this time.  Besides, it was easier to walk with it on his back.  

“Oh, _Flynn_.”  She beamed when he reached her and a bit of her old spark returned.  “Look at you.  You’ve gone and grown up.”

She hugged him and then Flynn dutifully leaned on his cane to bend over and let her pinch his cheeks.  He couldn’t remember why he’d hated that so much as a kid.  It was nice to feel loved.  

“Let me carry your bag for you,” she said as they left the station.

“I’ve got it, Gran.”

“It looks heavy.”

“It’s fine.  Really, it’s nothing.”

She watched him suspiciously, eager to point out any reason he should let her carry it for him.  

Flynn had expected to walk to the cottage, but to his surprise, his grandfather’s old car sat near the station exit.  “You brought the car?”

“Of course.  I could hardly let you walk all the way home with your bad leg.”

Flynn frowned and unconsciously rubbed his thigh.  “It’s really not that bad….”  It always hurt after long walks, but Flynn hated being given special accommodations.  He didn’t want to be pitied.  He wanted it to hurt.  “I didn’t know you could drive.”

Gran tightened the black ribbon under her chin, holding her hat on.  “I learned.  Let me help you up, dear.”

Flynn didn’t like being helped, but rejecting help from a grandmother was a difficult task.  She gave him a hand and helped him step up to the bench and take a seat.  He stretched the leg out, half-heartedly massaging it.  

“I’ve heard hardly a peep out of you, you know.”  Gran took her place behind the steering wheel and the car set off.  “I had to hear everything through your mother.”

“I’m sorry.”  Flynn watched the ocean come into view around a curve.  “I thought about writing, but… I wasn’t sure what to say.”  

“I got more letters from you when you were in a muddy ditch in a foreign country than I did for the six months you’ve been sitting at home.”

“I’m sorry, Gran.”  It had been easy to write when he was at the front.  He knew he couldn’t say much due to censorship, so the letters were basic and full of simple reassurances that he hadn’t been killed yet.  Then he’d gotten home and… what?  There was nothing to say.  ‘I’m doing well’ was a blatant lie, and he could hardly fill a letter with descriptions of how he hardly left his flat.  

It wasn’t until they pulled up in front of the cottage that Flynn realized what day it was.  The thought struck him and he had to fight the urge to go sprinting away from the car and rush down to the beach, calling Yuri’s name.  He wouldn’t, of course, and not only because he hadn’t done anything in the vicinity of sprinting since he’d been shot.  They had plans for today, and Flynn didn’t have time to lounge on the beach catching up with an old friend.  

“Your room is exactly the same,” Gran said as they entered.  “Are you hungry?  I thought we could eat a little lunch and then head to the church.”

“I would like that.  Let me fix it, though.  You can sit down.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.”  She grabbed his arms and forced him into a chair at the kitchen table.  “I haven’t got to make lunch for grandson in three years.”

He wore a surrendering smile and said, “As you wish.”

She busied herself in the kitchen, pulling out a loaf of bread and corned beef.  A tomato rested on the wooden cutting board and then she whipped out a long, sharp knife and went to work.  The blade gleamed in the afternoon sun and soon it was stained with red juice.  

It reminded Flynn of something, and when he noticed the sick feeling in his gut, he realized it was a bayonet.  Oh.  That was why his hands were trembling.

Flynn tore his gaze away and forced himself to think of something else.  He fixated on the ocean through the small, curtained window.  It was just as cold and grey as he remembered from his youth and he wondered how many of Yuri’s family members were roaming the town today in human form.  He knew he ought to go down to the beach just to find Yuri and assure him he was alive, but he found he didn’t really want to talk to him.

Gran placed a plate in front of him.  “Here you go.  Eat up.”  She sat across from him and leaned forward with her chin on her hands, smiling.  “You know, Flynn, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but… I think I’m glad you were wounded.”

He paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth.  “Oh?”

“Of course I hate to think that you were in pain, but when I heard you’d been sent to hospital, I knew that at least no one was shooting at my little boy anymore.”

His heart throbbed.  “Yes… I suppose that’s true.”

“It’s such a shame you didn’t have a chance to see your grandfather again.  I know he was very proud of you.”

He lowered his eyes.  “Yeah….”  He should have come to visit sooner after he got back.  It had been such a struggle to adjust back to living in his quiet flat with his mum and he hadn’t had the energy to take a cross-country train ride.  How was he to know his grandfather would pass away before his annual summer trip?  Who could have anticipated that after surviving the worst war the world had ever seen, he’d come home to a country ravaged by the flu?  

When he’d finished lunch, Flynn went to his room to get changed.  As he tugged his black dress trousers on, he absently massaged the raised, taut scar on his thigh.  The gunshot wound that had taken him off the front had never really healed properly.  He was doing better than he had when he was first discharged from the hospital and the from the army, though.  At least he could walk, even if it was a slow and sore affair that demanded a cane.  

He straightened his black tie and slipped on his dark jacket, then limped back to the kitchen to rejoin his grandmother.  

She beamed at him, though there was sadness in her eyes.  “You look so handsome.  Grandpa would be _so_ proud.”

With his spare hand, Flynn took hers.  “Let’s get going.  The service will be starting soon.”  Hand in hand, they set off for the funeral.  

* * *

  


It was a long afternoon.  Flynn held his grandmother’s arm as she wept during the service, but his eyes stayed dry.  He did miss his grandfather, and was upset that he’d died, but even when he first got the news, all he’d done was sit in his room and stare at the wall.  Flynn suspected this had something to do with how he’d purposefully locked away those emotions while in the trenches, and he was struggling to bring them back now that he’d returned to the real world.  

After the service, he spent the long afternoon shaking hands with family friends and distant relations.  Over and over, people told him they were sorry for his loss and Flynn tried his best to put on a grieving face.  He wondered how many other people were forcing the grief, too.  His grandfather had been far from the only person to die of the flu, and he knew he had distant cousins who’d also gone to war, but unlike him, they hadn’t come back.  Many of the great-aunts and second-cousins he was shaking hands with today probably resented him for making it home when their sons or brothers hadn’t.  Flynn didn’t blame them.  He wasn’t sure why he deserved to have lived, either.  

At last the funeral ended and they were able to go home.  They ate a simple supper and then Gran kissed him on the cheek and retired to her room.  It had been a long day, she said, and she wanted to be alone for a little while.  

Flynn nursed a cup of tea in the quiet, dimly lit kitchen.  His hands were folded in front of him and his cane leaned against the table.  The windows were open, letting in a cool breeze, the chirping of crickets, and the rustle of waves.  It was so… _quiet_.  

The silence was maddening.  At least in the city, he had the bustle of neighbours next door, the clip-clop of horses on the streets or the rush of an automobile.  It was so strange to sit in the comfortable, familiar room that reminded him of his childhood.  Everything looked the same as it had the summer before he’d left.  How could he come back to a home that was exactly the same when he had changed so much?  How could someone who had stabbed a young man in the face with a bayonet, because he’d known the same would happen to him if he didn’t do it first, quietly sip in a cozy kitchen as if the past three years hadn’t happened?

He’d come home, just like he’d promised, except he really hadn’t.  He’d left part of himself behind -  buried under mud, blood, and tears - and he wasn’t sure if his altered self still fit into the Flynn-shaped hole he’d left here.  It had been a mistake to come home.  He shouldn’t be here.  He ought to have died with the rest of them.

From the living room, the grandfather clock began to chime.  He’d just finished his tea when the tenth bong faded, and then he looked out the window to the sea.  In two hours, it would be midnight.  He wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to come back next summer, so this might be his last chance.  At the very least, Yuri deserved to know what had become of him.  

Flynn was about to walk out the door, but he hesitated, and then went back to his room to fetch his flute.  He ran his fingers along the cool body and wondered if he even remembered how to play.  He hadn’t touched it since he enlisted, even after he got home.  It had just never seemed like a good time.  But now, heading down to the beach, it felt proper to at least try.  

Flynn didn’t take the staircase down to the beach.  He didn’t feel up to it with his bad leg, so he took the road which gently sloped down.  Walking across the sand was difficult with the cane, so it was slow going to the rocks.  He eased himself down on a low rock and stretched his legs out.  Leaning back against a larger rock, he put the instrument to his lips and began to play.

He started with a simple song because he didn’t feel confident enough to try anything complicated.  The first few notes squeaked pathetically as he dusted off a rusty skill.  Once he got going, his fingers moved on their own.  He’d played this song many times over the years and his muscles remembered how to churn out the long, mournful notes even if his conscious mind didn’t.  

Flynn turned off his brain as he played.  He let the music consume him and drive away the images of blood, carnage, and suffering that we seared into his mind.  It wasn’t perfect and the notes squeaked when he blew too hard, and his tempo stuttered when he clamped his fingers too tightly against the valves.  His mind was filled with grief he hadn’t known how to release, and now it flowered out on the melody.  

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye, but Flynn didn’t look up until the figure was standing over him.  He held the final note, letting the sweet sound blend into the incoming gush of a wave before allowing it to fade, and then lowered the instrument to his lap.

“Hard to believe,” Yuri said.  “After all this time… you _still_ stink.”

Flynn looked up at him, surprised at the cold words, and then Yuri broke into a grin.  It was infectious, and soon Flynn was smiling, too, though his was less vibrant.  That was when he realized his cheeks were streaked with tears, and he hastily wiped them away with his sleeve.

“Welcome back.”  Yuri dropped onto a rock next to Flynn.  “I wasn’t worried at all.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Nah.  I knew you wouldn’t die.  I used selkie magic on you, remember?”

Flynn’s heart throbbed again.  “Right….”

“So tell me all about it!”  Yuri wrapped his arm around Flynn’s shoulders.  “I mean, it’s been three years!  What have you been up to?”

Tell him all about it?  Flynn had barely even told his mother about it.  It wasn’t exactly a pleasant story.  “I… would rather not.”

“Oh.”  Yuri looked at his face.  “Yeah.  Of course.  So when did you get back?”

“I was shot in early October.  That’s when I left the frontlines.  I was at a hospital for a few weeks after that.  I returned to my mother’s flat at the beginning of November, just before the peace treaty that would have sent me home anyway.”

“I bet you were glad to be home.”

Flynn thought about all his sleepless nights lying awake in a dark room, wondering why he deserved to live when so many others hadn’t.  He’d wanted to fall asleep to stop thinking about it, but also feared doing so because of the inevitable nightmares.  “Um… yeah.”

Yuri picked up the cane and twirled it between his hands.  “I saw you walking with your gran earlier.  Do you always have to use this stick now?”

“Yes.  My leg doesn’t support my weight very well anymore.”

“Will it ever get better?”

Flynn shrugged.  “The doctor said probably not.”  It had been a quick conversation.  The doctor had spared only a few minutes to tell him the wound had healed as much as they could expect it too and he’d likely be handicapped for the rest of his life.  Flynn couldn’t blame him, though, when he had a hospital full of wounded soldiers and even more flu patients.  

“Man… I guess we won’t be doing much running around next summer.”

Flynn nodded slowly.  “Yes… but then, I’m not sure I’m coming back next summer.”

“Excuse me?  You said you’d only be gone for the duration of the war.”

“I know.  But, things have changed.  I’ve changed.  I only came back for a few days to attend my grandfather’s funeral.  I’m an adult now, and I need to find work in the city.”  Assuming anyone would hire him.  He was too crippled to do manual labour and if he tried to sit and focus on some sort of clerical work, he was sure his mind would drift back to memories he’d rather forget.  Just a few weeks ago, the boom of a car backfiring had sent him into a spiral of panic in which he was certain more artillery shells were going to fall on him at any second.  He didn’t want to live on his military pension forever, but what kind of job prospects were there for a twitchy war vet with a bum leg?  

“You could still come to visit.  I’m sure you could get at least one day a year off to come say hello.”  

“I suppose.”  He sighed and leaned forward, head in his hands.  “I wish I could just go to the ocean with you and leave all this behind.”

“What?  No you don’t.  I know I suggested it last time, but that was dumb.  You belong on land just as I belong in the sea.”

Flynn shook his head.  “I hate this.  I hate feeling like this.  I hate waking up and remembering I’m alive and feeling guilt hit me like a train.”

“Hey.”  Yuri rested his hand on Flynn’s shoulder.  “Why should you feel guilty for being alive?”

“Because I don’t deserve to be.”

“You don’t _deserve_ it?  That’s a load of bullshit.  Life isn’t something you have to  ‘deserve’, it’s something you just have and you make the most of it.”

“Hrm….”

“And if you really need a reason, think of your friends and everyone else who loves you.  I’m sure they’re all very happy you didn’t die.”

His whole chest clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut.  Flynn whispered, “I don’t have any friends.”

Yuri’s confidence faltered.  “You… don’t?  What do you mean?  You told me all about your friends from the city.  I’ve been hearing about them since we were kids.”

Flynn nodded slowly and didn’t lift his head from his arms.  “Yes.  I did.  But we all enlisted, or were drafted, and then… one by one, the rest of them dropped away.  Maybe it was gunfire, or mustard gas, or illness, but… I’m the only one left.  The rest of my regiment got sent over the top a fortnight after I was sent to hospital.   It’s just a fluke that I’m alive.  I _should_ have gone with them - I should have died with them.”  He rubbed his face to clear the tears that were welling up again.  His music had unclogged something in his heart and tears he’d held back for ages were pouring out.  “So, no.  I don’t have any friends.  The war took them all.”  

Flynn couldn't bring himself to face Yuri.  He just wanted to curl up and disappear, and never have to hear someone tell him he was brave again.  There had been no bravery in his survival - no skill.  He'd dropped his compass and took a few steps back to pick it up, and been shot.  If he hadn't dropped it, it would have been his friend who took the bullet to his leg and got sent home to see his family again.  Ever since he'd returned home, he'd struggled to fight off both the guilt of being alive when he didn't deserve it, and the guilt of secretly being grateful he'd been saved from going over the top.  

"You don’t have to earn the right to exist, Flynn."  Yuri rested his hand on Flynn's back.  "You wouldn't have been able to save them if you were there.  If they were really your friends, I bet they were glad you made it out."

Flynn tried not to think about the last time he'd seen one of his closest friends, clasping his hand with a smile as Flynn was carried away on a stretcher and calling him a lucky bastard.  "I know you're right," he whispered.  "I would have been happy for any of the others if they had a chance to get out. My mother, the nurses and doctors at the hospital... everyone tells me I have nothing to feel guilty about.  Sometimes I almost believe it."  He took a deep breath and tried to rub his eyes dry.  "But then I think about how utterly alone I am, with no friends left to commiserate with.  I went to war to fight for m country, but what do I have to come home to?  Why did fate... or God - if he even exists - pluck me out of harm's way when I have no one to make life worth living?   _Why me_?"

Waves flowed in and out, marking the beat as they sat in silence.  Then Yuri said, “I’ll stay with you.”

Flynn pulled his head up.  “What?”

“I can’t let you stay here alone.  I need to see you more than once a year.  So, tonight, I’m staying.”

“You can’t.  If you do, then you won’t be able to shapeshift anymore.”

Yuri grabbed Flynn’s hands and looked him in the eye.  “Maybe I don’t care?  It could be fun to live as a human.”

Flynn sniffled and shook his head.  “You said it was very hard for a selkie to stay on land indefinitely.  I can’t let you do that to yourself.  Face it, Yuri.  You can’t live on land and I can’t live in the ocean.  Once a year is the only thing we can have.”

“There’s got to be some way.  I’m sick of only being able to talk to you once a year.”

“Have you asked your mum?”

Yuri shook his head. “No.  She died a while ago, actually.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”

Yuri shrugged.  “Now isn’t the time for my own sob-story, since you’re doing such a great job of covering for both of us.”

Flynn chuckled a little and wiped away fresh tears.  Now that they’d started, he just couldn’t stop.  “If you're really serious about this... maybe my gran knows something.  She was always telling me stories about selkies when I was a kid.”

Yuri user the sleeve of his shirt to wipe a tear away.  "Yeah, I am serious.  I'll prove it to you that you deserved your luck - that you had something to come back to, too  From now on, we're going to stick together, so let's go see your gran.

Flynn leaned forward until his head bumped Yuri's.  "How can I ever thank you for making this sacrifice for me?"

"Hey, it's not a complete sacrifice.  I'll get to see you everyday, so I get something out of it too."

Flynn started to maneuver himself upright, but Yuri leapt to his feet first, grabbed Flynn’s arm, and pulled him up.  He stuck by Flynn’s side across the beach, even though Flynn had to move slowly across the uneven sand.  They took the long road up from the beach and to Flynn’s front door.

When they walked in, Gran was in the kitchen, cleaning up the teacup Flynn has left behind.  “Oh.  I’m sorry, Gran.  I was going to clean that later.”

“Don’t worry about it, dear.” She turned around and saw Yuri standing in the doorway, gazing around the house with intense curiosity.  In all their years, Flynn had never brought Yuri inside.  They always spent their days outside, exploring the village and playing in the sun.  Playing indoors was something Flynn only did during winter.  This was probably Yuri’s first time inside a human home, so no wonder he was fascinated by the gas lighting and solid iron range.  “Who’s your friend?” Gran asked.

“Um… this is Yuri.”  Flynn hobbled forward to a chair, because after the uphill walk, his leg was killing him.  Yuri took up position standing behind Flynn, though his eyes kept drifting around the kitchen with curiosity. “He’s the friend I’ve told you about.”

“Ah, yes.  The mysterious boy who shows up on Midsummer’s Day.”    

“Gran… this might seem like an odd question, but what do you know about how selkies can stay on land?”

She glanced between them and then smiled conspiratorially.  “Well now. Has your friend finally come clean about what he is, then?”

Behind him, Yuri startled.  Flynn had to gape at her for a moment, too, before he could speak.  “You knew?”

She held out her hands.  “I guessed, what with him only showing up on Midsummer’s Day.  And I do know that many of the seals in the harbour are selkies.  I told you they were special, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but I always thought you meant….”  Flynn shook his head.  “At least this saves us the trouble of explaining.”

Gran took a seat across from Flynn.  “And now you want to know how you can stay together for more than one day?”

Flynn nodded.

“Well, my dears, I’m afraid there’s nothing Yuri can do.  The rules of a selkie are strict and final.  If you want to go back and forth, you get one day only.  Are you willing to give up the ocean forever to stay on land with him?”

Yuri rested a hand on Flynn’s shoulder.  “I… if that’s the only way….”

She shook her head.  “Your hesitation alone shows you aren’t prepared to commit to it.  The call of the sea is a powerful tug on a landed selkie.  Most of them can’t stop themselves from racing down to the waves the moment they pick up their shed skin.  No, dear, I fear life on land will only bring you misery.”

“But there’s no other option.  I’m the only one who has the choice to go between worlds.  If it’s the only way, I’ll do it.”  His grip on Flynn tightened.  

“So sure it has to be you, are you?” Gran asked, raising her eyebrows.  “Flynn, I’m going to tell you a little story.  I know I’ve told you many stories about the selkies over the years, but listen closely because this one is very important.

“Once upon a time, there lived a fisherman in this very village.  Over the years, he fell in love with a beautiful maiden who came to shore once a year to dance on the beach beneath the moon.  They were saddened that they could only be together one day of the year, so one Midsummer’s Day, the woman made the ultimate sacrifice.  As the midnight church bells struck, she remained standing on the beach, wrapped in the arms of her human lover.  She’d decided to leave the sea behind.  In order to prevent herself from ever stumbling upon the skin and giving in to the irresistible urge to return to the ocean, she buried it at the base of an old oak tree.  From there, she lived her life as a human woman.  Though she often spent hours gazing longingly at the sea, she filled its absence with her love for her husband and, eventually, children.  They lived a long, peaceful life and it wasn’t until she lay on her deathbed that she pulled her eldest daughter in close and told her the secret of her family history, and that anyone with a trace of selkie blood could dig up her old coat and transform themselves.”

Gran folded her hands, her story complete.  “Now then.  You’re a smart young man.  I’m sure you can figure out the next bit.”

“I assume you’re about to tell me that you were the eldest daughter?  And the selkie woman… was my great-grandmother?”

She smiled and nodded.  “Correct.  I didn’t learn my mother’s true heritage until shortly before her death, but it did put into perspective many odd things I’d noticed about her all my life.  And now, I pass that heritage down to you.  You’re not as human as you thought you were, Flynn.”

Flynn was mute, because he wasn’t sure how to react to this news.  Part of him felt vindicated, in that he had an excuse to feel so cut off from the world.  

Yuri was more excited. “So, does that mean Flynn can become a seal like me?  He could come to the ocean with me?”

Gran nodded.  “You, Yuri, are a child of the sea.  You are bound by the rules that keep you tethered to it.  But Flynn has blood from both the land and the sea.  He has one foot in both worlds, and if he wished, he could freely transform and go in-between.”  She reached across the table to take his hand.  “What do you think, Flynn?”

“I’m… not sure.  It’s such a big decision.”  He had wished he could swim away and leave this world behind, but now that he had the option, he felt guilty even considering taking it.  It would just be running away, just like he’d run away from the front.  Not by choice, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.  

“I know how sad you are, Flynn.  No, that word doesn’t cover it.  It’s so obvious, even in the short day that I’ve spent with you, how profoundly the war has affected you.  What you need is a break.  Go to the ocean, spend your days with Yuri, give your mind a chance to heal even if your leg won’t.”

Flynn peered at his hands and considered how often he caught them trembling.  He really had been a wreck since he got back.  Gran was right; it would be good to get away from all this.  He hated to think of going home and once again living on a street that was so painfully empty of the boys who had grown up on it.  “Yes.  You’re right.  I do want to get away from here.  Leave everything behind and just… stop being human for a while.”

“You two will have to move fast, though.  You have half an hour until midnight.”

Flynn leaned on the table and pushed himself to his feet.  “Are you sure, Gran?  I feel guilty about leaving you so soon after Grandpa passed.”

Gran rounded the table and hugged him.  “Don’t you worry about your old gran.  All I want is for you to be happy.  If that means saying goodbye for a little while, I can do that.  At least this time, I know you’re not in a war zone.”

Flynn hugged her back.  “Thanks, Gran.”

“The shovel is behind the shed.  You need to dig on the village-facing side of the old oak tree just up the lane.”  She reached up and pinched his cheeks.  “Go on, then.  And don’t be afraid to pay your old gran a visit once in awhile.”

They left the cottage.  Behind the shed, Yuri picked up the shovel.  He slung it over his shoulder and let Flynn lead the way up the dirt road.  Flynn kept glancing at the church in the village, wondering when midnight would strike.  If they didn’t make it back to the sea in time, Yuri would be stuck.  They had to hurry, but his damn leg kept him from moving faster than a limp.

“You should go home.  I’ll catch up later.”

“We’re doing this together.”

“But what if-”

Yuri rested his hand on Flynn’s shoulder.  “I spent three years wondering if you were dead.  I’m not leaving you now.”

Flynn smiled at the ground.  “Ok.”

When they reached the tree, Flynn reluctantly let Yuri do the digging.  He wanted to help, but just couldn’t dig his feet into the ground the way Yuri could.  His leg ached from all the walking he’d done today, but there was nowhere to sit down but the ground and getting up again would just be more hassle.  

“Annnd here it is!”  Yuri scooped the last few handfuls of dirt aside and pulled out a cloak of soft fur, shimmering slightly in the moonlight.

“So… this was my great-grandmother’s skin?”  It sounded weird to be wearing his great-grandmother’s skin.

“It’s… more of a symbolic thing.”  Yuri handed it over and Flynn draped it over his arm.  “Now then, let’s get back to the beach.”

Flynn was sure midnight would strike at any second when they finally reached the sand again.  Yuri dashed across the beach to a pile of boulders and returned with his own skin, which he’d stashed there this morning.  

“Are you ready?”

Flynn looked down at the seal fur in his arms.  “I’m not sure.  What do I do?”

“Just wrap it around yourself like a cloak.  But wait, there’s one thing I want to do before I lose human shape for another year.”

“You’d better hurry.  It’s going to be midnight very soon.”

“Can I give you a human kiss?  I’ve always wanted to try that.”

Flynn’s cheeks warmed and his Adam’s apple bobbed.  “Y-yes.  I would like that.”

“Good.”  Yuri grabbed the sides of Flynn’s head and leaned forward, pressing their mouths together.  Neither of them had ever kissed anyone before, so it was far from graceful.  Yuri’s idea of kissing involved a lot more nose rubbing than was normal between humans, but Flynn couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be.  Just the act of kissing Yuri made the world seem easier to bear, and strengthened his resolve to follow him into the ocean, at least for a little while.  

The first chime of midnight struck and Yuri, not breaking the kiss, threw his coat around his shoulders.  Flynn felt a wisp of whiskers falling away from his face as Yuri collapsed onto the beach on his belly.  A familiar grey seal lay on the beach and cheerfully barked at him, then nudged the coat hanging from his arms.

Half expecting it to not work, Flynn threw the skin around his shoulders like a cloak.  As it engulfed him, tingles swept across his body and he felt the coat cling to his skin.  Then he felt something that was akin to a sneeze across his entire body and when he opened his eyes again, the world was oddly blurry.  He blinked a few times and felt sand beneath his belly.  

“Well?” the seal in front of him asked.  “What do you think?”

“It’s very strange.  But I think I can get used to it.”  He wasn’t even sure how he was talking with such a different mouth.  

“Come on, then.  It always feels awkward on land.  You’re going to love swimming.”

Flynn left his cane abandoned on the beach.  With four limbs to move with, the fact that one back flipper was weaker than the others was less of a burden.  He wiggled through the sand after Yuri and then splashed into the water, which had never felt so right.  Just before he dove in, he looked back to the cottage on the hill.  He could just make out the silhouette of his grandmother standing in the back doorway, waving farewell.  Flynn waved a flipper at her, and then slipped under the waves.  

He had entered a new world.  His vision sharpened and became clear under the water while his whole body became weightless.   Ahead of him, Yuri twisted and jerked his head in the direction of the deeper water, and Flynn swept himself forward, delighting in the way water streamed past his smooth skin.  They swam deeper into the ocean, twisting and flipping through the water.  Flynn could feel the weight of guilt and grief being washed away by the sea.  He hadn’t felt this relaxed and content with life since before he joined the army.  

 After a lifetime spent in two dimensions, the freedom of flying through the ocean was overwhelming.  He recalled feeling envious of seals, and at last all his wishes had come true.  Best of all, Yuri looped through the waves to swim beside him and for the first time in his life, he knew he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him after just a day.  Someday he would return to the shore, to play the flute again and speak with his mother and grandmother, but for now he was so much happier to be here, side by side with Yuri, as they swam away into the sea.  


End file.
